


Looking Death in the Eye

by caffeinated_pens



Series: The Appointment in Samarra [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Mycroft-centric, Other, Suicidal Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinated_pens/pseuds/caffeinated_pens
Summary: Sorry, this one is pretty short but I plan on making a few more short additions quickly!  Thanks to blackcat5 and everyone else reading and supporting this series!  I love seeing your reviews and I'm always eager to hear all of your brilliant suggestions!  <3 you all, enjoy!





	Looking Death in the Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this one is pretty short but I plan on making a few more short additions quickly! Thanks to blackcat5 and everyone else reading and supporting this series! I love seeing your reviews and I'm always eager to hear all of your brilliant suggestions! <3 you all, enjoy!

       Eurus had tried to kill him. Well not exactly, she had tried to make Sherlock kill him. Which was actually quite worse. She was his sister, he had watched her grow up, he had babysat her, he had read stories to her. He had torn himself up over what she had become. His parents mourned her death, Sherlock erased her existence, but he knew what she had become. He knew and it nearly killed him, and he didn't want that pain inflicted on them, but then they found out, and they hated him for it, and it really did almost kill him.

        _It was early, he had scarcely slept the night before, Sherlock was still asleep, and the room had only the faintest glow of light._

       He used to read them stories. Almost every night his brother and his sister would climb into his bed and request he read them a story, and would, seeing as he was- much like Sherlock- a bit of an emotional child back in the day. He would read stories of pirates (as requested by Sherlock), and textbooks about psychology (as requested by Eurus). Even then, she was so beyond the spectrum.

        _The sun was rising a bit more now, he could hear the birds chirping and his brother snoring. He didn't care, he didn't notice, he was lost in thought._

       They used to play by the beach. Memories of yelling at a still unable to swim Sherlock not to wade too deep, of Eurus sitting on the dock, toy airplane in hand, with her feet dangling in the water flooded his mind.

    _It was around dawn; the time he would usually wake up on the nights he did sleep. His brother wouldn't be awake for hours. Sherlock always was a night owl. Mycroft was the early bird._

       His sister had tried to have him killed. She was troubled, she was different, but she still wanted Sherlock to kill him. On the rare nights he did sleep that image haunted his mind. Not the image of Sherlock shooting him, no, just him fixing his tie, putting on a stone faced expression that everyone could see through (it didn't matter, if he looked okay he was okay; that was what he spend every day since the very early years of his life telling himself) and staring down the barrel of the gun. Looking death in the eye.


End file.
